Paul Weitz’s Grandma is set in an insular world where the words ‘ingenue’ and ‘writer-in-residence’ count as insults. Superficially, it is about a granddaughter asking her grandmother for money for an abortion she scheduled for later in the afternoon. Dig a bit deeper and Grandma is about grief, the sort of grief one fiercely hangs on to lest they are accused of betrayal if they let a bit of it go. Weitz is known for directing Hollywood comedy behemoths; the first American Pie and Little Fockers define big budget excess. To write and direct an indie dramedy for under $600,000 is a remarkable new direction for Weitz and certainly comes across as a bigger challenge than having unlimited resources and big studio support. Grandma is a Lily Tomlin one-woman show and reminds us all about uneasy messages concerning getting older, the death of loved ones, and absorbing the fact that no matter how hard you struggled in your youth, the next generation will stare at you in puzzlement when you mention Betty Friedan and The Feminine Mystique and consider you the moron for not knowing who Mystique from the X-Men is. Opening with an epigraph from the poet Eileen Myles, the audience learns, “Time passes. That’s for sure.” Elle (Tomlin) is an unemployed university guest lecturer, a forgotten poet, and concerned she made a big mistake when she used her entire life savings to pay off every cent of her debt and then transforming her credit cards into wind chimes. When high school granddaughter, Sage (Julie Garner, 2014’s Sin City: A Dame to Kill For), comes calling for some financial help to terminate an unwanted pregnancy, Elle is in no position to help her. What Elle does have is a long memory and an even longer cast of folks who she thinks owe her some goodwill.

Half Los Angeles road-trip movie and half a day in the life of Elle the sharp-tongued, fading idealist, we meet the deadbeat teenaged biological father played by Nat Wolff (2014’s The Fault in Our Stars), a transgender tattoo artist played by Laverne Cox, a feminist coffee shop owner played by the recently deceased Elizabeth Peña, a long lost old flame played by Sam Elliott (2014’s Draft Day), and Sage’s workaholic, judgmental mother played by Marcia Gay Harden (2015’s Fifty Shades of Grey). Sam Elliott is particularly effective as Karl delivering a remarkable supporting performance in his brief screen time.

Elliott’s scene shifts Grandma from comedy to drama. Still nurturing feelings of abandonment and betrayal 30 years later toward Elle, Karl keeps his cards close to his chest and carefully gets peeled back like an onion as time loops back to the past stirring up some emotions that still sting. Since the word abortion pops up in any description of Grandma, one may guess Grandma is all drama, tears, and regrets, yet it is a bit more lighthearted than that. Weitz does not make light of the topic; there are no jokes or humor associated with it. It’s a real issue and an all too real problem for Sage to deal with.

Weitz most likely could have pulled more studio and financial support considering his background but he chooses to go bare bones here because it’s a bare bones story. Through puzzling out Sage’s problems, Elle is unconsciously getting over her own trauma of a somewhat recently departed loved one. Elle was stewing in a self-imposed misanthropy when Sage came calling and even though it was for awful circumstances, it is a sort of springboard for Elle to jump back into her life.

Julie Garner as Sage has a ‘30s / ‘40s look about her. Her short, curly, blonde hair could lock her in to play a young Jean Harlow. Judy Greer (2015's Ant-Man) also pops up as a person of significance in Elle’s life and once again, I feel like a movie has a tragically too short Judy Greer performance. Tomlin owns Grandma though from open to close. Weitz wrote Elle specifically for Tomlin after working with her in 2013’s Admission. Using Tomlin as his muse, Weitz descends from Hollywood’s neon glare into the indie realm of realism and wit. Whether or not Sage goes through the procedure is beside the point, we’re here for grandma; everyone else are side orders.